


A Yellow Sky

by babykid528, thatmysticbafflingwonder (babykid528)



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [26]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Law School, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Secret Relationship, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 17:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6432820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babykid528/pseuds/babykid528, https://archiveofourown.org/users/babykid528/pseuds/thatmysticbafflingwonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who gets the flu in the summer?????? <i>That’s what Alex’s last text says. It’s an incredulous question with far too many question marks considering how damn smart the sender actually is.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Yellow Sky

**Author's Note:**

> FYI, the Whamilton Law School AU is going to be "a thing" now... consider this and the two other ficlets in the 'verse (one of which will be posted for the first time this weekend) little appetizers for the main fic in the works. ;-)

_Who gets the flu in the summer??????_ That’s what Alex’s last text says. It’s an incredulous question with far too many question marks considering how damn smart the sender actually is.

Alex groans and refuses to respond. Let Lafayette wonder for the rest of his life. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t have the energy for this. For anything. All he can do is burrow deeper in the bed and give into the shivers wracking his body. He’s halfway between sleep and wakefulness when his phone beeps again. He doesn’t even look at it this time, just squeezes his eyes more firmly shut. Lafayette can go fuck himself.

His entire body hurts, the chilled shudders doing nothing to make his too tender tendons and skin feel less aflame. He’s burning up but _freezing_. His very existence has been reduced to a pained fever dream for hours and he’s unsure whether it will ever feel any better than now. Alex hasn’t been this sick in a long time. A _seriously_ long time. Like, the last time he was this sick, he and his mother were both near death in Nevis and he wound up an orphan.

He squeezes his jaw shut tight against the unwanted sense memories and he manages to doze a little more deeply. Some indeterminate time later, he wakes again to the feel of the bed dipping beside him and strong arms wrapping around him, over the thick blankets. Even without the skin-to-skin contact, he would know those arms anywhere.

“I feel like shit,” he manages to croak.

“I gathered,” George murmurs softly against the back of his head. He spoons a little closer behind Alex, then, and Alex notices he’s shivering a little less.

“I went to see if you wanted to get lunch during your break,” George continues in hushed tones. “Ms. Schuyler said you never made it to the Law Review meeting this morning though.”

“You were already at the gym when I woke up,” Alex croaks out an explanation. “I knew you’d be going to work right after and that you had that budget meeting you were worried about…”

George hums. “When did you last take your temperature?”

Alex half sighs, half groans, and then silence stretches between them.

“Alexander,” George says, voice firmer. “Have you taken your temperature at all?”

Alex manages to grumble a quick no, and George sighs.

“You haven’t had any medication or a fever reducer or anything either.” He doesn’t bother phrasing it like a question. It’s not. Alex knows he already knows the answer. George heaves another sigh, this one heavier than the previous one, and he rubs Alex’s side through the blankets once before leaving the bed.

“Take your temperature,” he orders before Alex hears him leave the bedroom. It’s cold outside his cocoon, but Alex does as he’s told, reaching out of the blankets just long enough to snatch the thermometer from where he put it on the bedside table. He really had intended to take his temperature when he woke up, and then the sick overwhelmed him.

George returns just as the thing beeps and he snatches it from Alex’s mouth before Alex can lift his own hand.

“Alex,” George chides.

“100.4?” Alex asks.

“101.7,” George corrects with a slow shake of his head. Watching the motion makes Alex feel dizzy, so he focuses his attention elsewhere. He notes that George is still in his Dean attire: suit pants, polished wingtips, button-down, and tie. He’s shed his suit jacket already, and his cufflinks. He’s got his shirtsleeves rolled up with precision and the veins in his forearms are exquisite. Alex focuses on them as he watches George put the thermometer aside so he can get Alex some medication from his drawer.

“I could write sonnets to your forearms,” Alex sighs.

George doesn’t laugh, but his voice is underlined with mirth when he asks, “Could you now?”

“Mmhmm,” Alex hums. He’s feeling foggy again, and still like warmed over shit, but he’s also feeling a certain measure of peace, having George home. He doesn’t even try fighting as he’s fed pills and sips of water. He just let’s George cradle his head and care for him.

“Hey,” George’s voice is soft and far away sounding. Alex cracks open his eyes, though it’s a struggle, and attempts to focus on the man still cradling his head.

“Hey,” he replies, slurred.

“I brought you some soup from that place you like on my way home,” George says. Alex hums and shivers, pressing closer to George’s touch. “I don’t think you’re quite up to eating yet, so I’m going to pack it away for later. Do you need anything?”

“Anything?” Alex manages to ask through newly chattering teeth.

“Anything,” George says, voice solid, touch perfectly warm.

“You,” Alex says. “Just you.”

George is blurry and Alex is mostly asleep again, but he knows he smiles, he can feel it in his gut.

“I’ll be right back then,” George promises before brushing his thumb across Alex’s cheekbone as he pulls his hand away.

Alex whines at the loss of his touch, and George gently shushes him. He’ll be back in a moment, and even though Alex knows, deep inside the rational part of his brain, that George shouldn’t come back, that George should treat him like Patient Zero and stay the hell away until this passes, the sentimental, aching, _needy_ part of himself – which is far bigger than that rational part of himself right now, if he’s being honest – is nothing but thankful George is not going anywhere. Just knowing he doesn’t have to go through this alone, that there’s someone there to hold him through it and be there for him when it’s passed, that’s almost enough to end his shivers full stop.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr here](http://thatmysticbafflingwonder.tumblr.com). Come chat and/or leave me prompts. <3


End file.
